


all my life i've been searching for something

by dancinghopper



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M, UPDATED JULY 2018!!!! aka i edited some spelling, and made better sentences, based on the b99 episode johnny and dora, so like basically everything u could ever want, this is basically just a fuck ton of kissing with some denial thrown in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 03:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14741252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancinghopper/pseuds/dancinghopper
Summary: “That’s too bad,” coos Amanda in a falsely sincere voice, “We’re celebrating!”She spares a second to glance back at Todd over her shoulder with a look that is, quite frankly,pure evil. He begins to get a very bad feeling about having her involved in the case.“Tim and Derek here just got engaged!”Todd chokes on his spit.or: dirk isn’t subtle, todd’s trying not to think, and somehow they end up kissing a lot anyway.(based on the brooklyn nine nine episode johnny & dora)





	all my life i've been searching for something

**Author's Note:**

> before u ask, yes, i really am so lazy that not only did I give NO explanation for the mcguffin and hope u wouldn’t notice, but I didn’t even bother to disguise it with a funky name. i’m not apologising, either, because I kNOW u just came here to read about dirk and todd kissing and actually couldn't give a damn about the plot. 
> 
> in other news, i’ve watched dirk gently twice through in the past three weeks and i needed to get it out of my system. pls enjoy the six billion b99 references as well
> 
> WARNING: this fic is stupid and fluffy and features a lot of kissing, fake-relationship talk and FAR too many italics. ENJOY xoxoxo

“Alright,” says Dirk, and claps his hands together. The familiar promise of excitement that usually accompanies a case hangs in the air, sizzling like a can of Pepsi. Todd folds his arms and waits to hear what wild goose chase they’ll be going on today. “I say we follow him.”

Silently, the three of them wait for him to continue, and when it becomes apparent that this is a far as Dirk’s thought, it’s up to Todd to roll his eyes and voice what they’re all thinking. “ _And_?”

“And?”

Todd closes his eyes, trying very hard not to sigh. Farah is less successful. She pinches the bridge of her nose, voice constricted. “We’re just _assuming_ he’ll lead us to the McGuffin?”

Dirk blinks. “Well I’m sure he will at _some_ point, Farah. Honestly, I thought you were used to my methods, by now.”

Amanda kicks her shoes against the side of Dirk’s desk, sitting on it like a small child. Dirk’s eyes track the movement with distaste, probably thinking about the scuff marks she’s inevitabley going to leave on the mahogany. Privately, Todd thinks he should just be glad the Rowdy 3 didn’t show up.

“Why am I here, then?” she asks, with casual indifference. “If you don’t have a proper plan?” 

Dirk makes a face. “I thought you’d want to be involved! Since _you_ brought me the case, and all. Plus, you have the van, and there are rather a lot of us.”

There’s only four of them, but Amanda shrugs anyway. “Can’t argue with that logic.”

Todd huffs slightly, feeling impatient. He’s glad to have Amanda here, he is, it’s just that when Dirk had called this ‘meeting’ he’d assumed it was because of a break in the case, not so they could do what they usually did with a tad more organisation. “Say he does lead us to the McGuffin. How do we find him in the first place?"

Dirk’s face lights up. “I’m glad you asked, Todd! I pulled some strings and found out that he’ll be at the – um – this place –” He flashes his phone at Todd, a picture of a restaurant on the display, “ – tonight at six!” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Todd catches the slight furrow in Farah’s brow, and bites back a smile. 

“When you say ‘pulled some strings,’ do you mean Farah did it?”

“Yes,” says Dirk, not even trying to deny it, “Obviously.” 

Todd shakes his head, aware that he’ll end up agreeing and deciding, therefore, not to fight it. “I guess we’re going out tonight, then.”

Dirk grins, already half in his yellow jacket. “Excellent!”

* * *

The hostess – is it a hostess? Booking lady? Non-waitress? Todd doesn’t know – offers them all a sympathetic smile whilst she informs them all that she can’t _possibly_ seat them without a reservation. That’s not unsurprising – it’s Friday night, everyone’s out, and Todd’s more or less ready to call it quits right then and keep lookout from the Rowdies’ van. That, or the dude they’re supposed to be tailing can probably be watched from the restaurant’s bar. It’s certainly not _vital_ that they get a seat. Dirk must have other ideas, though – he’s got that look on his face he gets right before he tries to convince people of some wildly unbelievable tale (even if it happens to be the truth), so Todd subtly treads on his foot. That’s only ever managed to work out a handful of times at best, and it probably won’t work here. Most likely he’ll just get them kicked out, and, in Todd’s opinion, the number of establishments they’re already barred from doesn’t need an increase. Dirk sends him an affronted look, but thankfully keeps his mouth shut.

“That’s too bad,” coos Amanda in a falsely sincere voice, resting her elbows on the hostess stand. It’s the same voice she used to use to get her and Todd into clubs for free, charming the bouncers with a smile and strategic head tilt. “We’re celebrating!”

She spares a second to glance back at Todd over her shoulder with a look that is, for lack of better words, _pure evil_. He begins to get a very bad feeling about having her involved in the case.

“Tim and Derek here just got engaged!”

Todd chokes on his spit. Farah just closes her eyes like she doesn’t know why she puts up with them (he doesn’t either, frankly).

The hostess – Amy, according to her name tag – looks at them expectantly. Todd tries to cool the blush (and honestly, _what the fuck_ ) that’s spreading across his neck, whilst Dirk splutters beside him. For two detectives, they really aren’t very good at undercover work. A girl waiting to be seated looks over at them curiously. 

“Yes,” says Dirk finally, sounding strangled. “Engaged. That’s us. Me and – um – Tim, here. Getting married.”

Todd finds it in himself to nod. “I would have booked but I, uh…”

Amanda shoots him a look that clearly says _don’t blow this for us_ , and Todd forces an excuse out. “… I didn’t know if he was gonna say yes.”

“Commitment issues,” says Amanda in a stage whisper, draping herself across the hostess stand. Todd thinks he sees her bat her eyelashes.

It takes a moment, but soon Amy’s smile morphs into something more genuine, and she quickly scans her bookings. “That’s so cute,” she says, biting her lip. “I tell you what – I can maybe get you a table for two, if that would work. You’d just have to let me seat this couple, first.”

She inclines her head to the girl who was watching them, whilst Amanda beams. “Thank you so much! Farah and I’ll just stay at the bar for a little while. It’s you guys’ big night, after all.”

She directs this last part at Todd, winking at him. He decides he wants to die.

After returning from seating the girl, the hostess takes him and Dirk – _Derek_ – over to a table, and god, Todd hadn’t realised his life was going to add ‘cheesy TV tropes’ on top of all the _holistic, magic is real_ shit. Dirk’s leaning down slightly so he can talk to Todd without being overheard, while Todd looks around for the guy they’re supposed to be tailing.

“That was good thinking of Amanda’s, wasn’t it?” he says, right by Todd’s ear. “A bit – erm – unorthodox, but I’m sure it will all work out fine. Now we just need – _ah_.”

It’s not an exaggeration to say that sometimes Todd _hates_ the universe, and even more so when Amy places them right beside the fucking _mark_. Joseph Gardener looks up from ordering his steak as they sit down, and Todd cringes when his sidepiece – because of _course_ it’s the girl from the line – recognises them.

“Oh my god,” she cries, “You’re the couple who just got engaged, right?”

“Yes,” says Todd through gritted teeth. The good news is that he can see a McGuffin-sized suitcase by Gardener’s feet – at least Dirk’s hunch was maybe more on track than expected. “That’s us.”

Across the table, Dirk’s eyes are round as saucers, and the blush across his cheeks is _annoying_ and _definitely not_ endearing, because endearing implies _like_ , and if there’s one thing Todd is determined to do this evening, it’s to like Dirk Gently a normal, friendly amount. So that’s that.

“Tell me _everything_ ,” coos the girl, propping her head on her hand like she expects a novel, and Todd decides that later he’s going to kick Amanda’s ass.

* * *

“You’re terrible,” says Farah. “Really – really terrible.”

Amanda grins at her, eyes bright. “Thank you.”

Farah sips on her drink, discreetly watching the other half of the detective agency (other two-thirds? Amanda is an honoury member, if not a _legitimate_ member, so perhaps she was correct when she said half. It’s definitely not the point) from the corner of her eye. Dirk’s practically got his mouth on Todd’s ear, at this point, and it would be indecent if Todd didn’t look so distinctly uncomfortable. Still, Farah doesn’t miss when his hand comes up (instinctively, she thinks) to hover on Dirk’s back when it looks like he’s going to go crashing into another table. Dirk looks back over his shoulder at him, eyes wide, and something clicks in Farah’s mind.

 _“_ Oh, _”_ she says, as several things line up in ways that didn’t before. Now she’s seen it, she wonders how she could have possibly missed it.

Amanda just grins wider. “Yeah.”

* * *

“When did you two meet?” 

Todd shares a panicked look with Dirk, both of them answering simultaneously with different answers.

“Um,” corrects Todd, “That is, we met a year ago and started dating six months ago.”

In what Todd thinks is probably an attempt to minimise the suspicion of their previous answer, Dirk (rather unhelpfully) adds: “I broke into his apartment.”

Sidepiece, as Todd’s decided to call her in his head, looks between them, confusion written across her face. “Huh?”

Dirk leans forward on his elbows, clearly intent on telling the story in full.

“ _Well_ ,” he says, “It involved a corgi, a _time_ machine, and a –”

 He breaks off as Todd kicks his shin under the table. As excited as Dirk gets about his cases (and as happy as it makes Todd to see him that way), it’s really _not_ a good idea to tell the guy they’re investigating that they’re private detectives. Dirk seems to clue into this a second too late, his face going an alarming shade of red.  

“Erm,” says Dirk, changing track abruptly, “That is to say – I thought it was my own?” 

“He’d locked himself out,” saves Todd, because he’s a good liar (true) and good at his job (debatable). “He lives in the apartment below me, so he – uh – miscounted the windows? And ended up falling through _my_ window as I was getting home from work.”

Dirk beams. “Yes, that’s it. And then he hit me.”

“I didn’t _hit_ you, I threw a _shoe_ at you – ”

“ – well I think you’ll find that _that_ hit me, so you sort of did – ”

“ – depends how you define ‘hit’ – ”

“ – oh, I think I definitely define it like that – ”

“ – so the karate shit was what, exactly? – ”

“ – honestly, Todd, just admit you hit me – ”

“Todd?”

Dirk reigns himself in surprisingly quickly at Gardener’s question. “Nickname,” he explains hastily, but when he looks back at Todd the corner of his mouth ticks up. “Tim wasn’t punk enough for him.”

Todd feels strangely touched.

Gardener sends them a curious look. “Hm,” he says, but decides to move on. “So, uh, six months, was it? Bit of a fast engagement.”

Todd shrugs, feeling awkward again now that they’re back to the fake-relationship charade. “Well, you know. When you know you know, and all that.”

Dirk nods, distracted as he tries to force a particularly stubborn piece of broccoli onto his fork. “Yes – the, um, universe. Leaves in the stream of creation, that’s all we are.”

Despite himself, Todd snorts down at his pasta – the more he hears that line, the more rehearsed it begins to sound. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Dirk practiced it in front of the mirror. Gardener and Sidepiece look at them, twin frowns splayed on their faces. 

“That’s his whole thing,” Todd explains, making a vague hand gesture that’s supposed to demonstrate the interconnectedness of all things. “He thinks the universe leads him where he needs to go, even if it’s not – what is it? – rarely where he intended to be. It’s a bunch of bullshit, but.”

The words are said without any bite, because Todd’s long since accepted that he’s pretty much sold on the _holistic_ aspect of their detective agency, but he tacks on the ‘bullshit’ to make sure he doesn’t sound _completely_ insane. Dirk knows he respects the agency, and him, so there’s really _no need_ for him to say what he does next, which simply _must_ be some form of revenge.

“It led me to you,” he says simply, as if that’s the be all end all of arguments.

Todd hates him. He does. He really, _fucking_ hates him. _What the **fuck** _ –

“That is _so_ adorable,” coos Sidepiece, and Todd clears his throat, mouth feeling uncomfortably dry.

“Shut up,” he mutters at Dirk, but it sounds a lot less harsh than he intended it to. Dirk smiles in return and Todd decides not to think about the fondness hidden in his eyes. He’s starting to think he might be in too deep.

Eager to escape before the situation becomes any _more_ bizarre, Todd manages to manhandle the conversation until he can politely suggest they finish up. Dirk looks slightly disappointed, but he slaps his knees and says _Right!_ , and apparently that’s that. 

“Us too,” agreed Gardener, and gestures for Sidepiece to finish up. His waistcoat bulges a little, as he stands, and Todd wrinkles his nose at the kind of pretentious asshole he can only imagine you have to be to wear a three piece suit. “C’mon, Tammy. Why don’t you go wait in the car? I’m just going to thank the chef.”

Tammy waves at them as she leaves. “Have fun on your honeymoon, guys!”

Todd tries to smile at her. As soon as they’re both out of ear shot, Dirk leans urgently over the table.

“Todd! The chef, he must be handing over the McGuffin – come on!”

Hurriedly – because Todd _is not_ letting this case fail after all he’s just been through, they make their way towards the back. Across the restaurant, Todd manages to make eye contact with Farah. He sees her nod, and her and Amanda disappear to pull the car round front, obviously having seen Gardener leave.

Dirk’s hovering suspiciously in the hallway, peering into the kitchen. “Can you see? What’s he doing? Maybe he really _is_ just thanking the che – _shIT!_ ”

Gardener turns from his conversation, and sees them. Todd barely has a moment to process - all he knows is that he locks eyes with the man, panics, and does something _completely fucking idiotic_ , and also sort of wonderful.

Not that he’s thinking about that, though.

He grabs the side of Dirk’s face and pulls it down to his, planting his lips on Dirk’s. There’s a very hurried noise of surprise, and Todd’s _just_ thinking _what the fuck_ when Dirk’s hands land on his hips, and oh, _oh, that’s_ –

“’Scuse me.” 

Todd pulls back, breathing rapidly. Gardener stares at them. They stare back. 

“Hell-o,” says Dirk finally, and Todd would laugh at the way his voice breaks if it weren’t for the fact that Dirk’s hands are still on him, and it’s distracting. “Sorry, we were just…”

Todd decides to help him out. “We were just looking for a place to… uh…”

“Boink??”

Todd tries _very_ hard not to grimace. “Yep. Boink. That’s… that’s my preferred term for it.”

Gardener looks at them some more, and then his face breaks into a smile. “Hey, no worries, I get it. I think it’s good you guys can do that without worry, now.”

He claps Todd on the shoulder. “See you ‘round.”

And then he leaves. One of Todd’s arms is still clutching Dirk’s neck.

“Well –,” says Dirk as they quickly disentangle themselves from each other. “I, um – good. Tremendous, tremendous assisting, Todd. Might have to – erm – give you a promotion. Or something. Yes. Well. Let’s go, shall we?”

* * *

The atmosphere in the Rowdies truck is _definitely_ weirder than normal – and that’s saying something, because Amanda hangs round with not-quite-psychic vampires 90% of the time. If Martin were here, she could probably get him to read Dirk and Todd for her, but he’s not, so she’s stuck with her own detective skills for the time being.

“How was the restaurant?” she asks eventually, when it’s been ten minutes of nobody speaking.

“ _Such_ a normal time!” squeaks Dirk. She glances in the rear-view mirror, trusting Farah to keep an eye on Gardener’s car. Todd’s put his head in his hands. When he speaks, his voice is muffled. 

“Dirk and I – there was an incident.”

“What kind of incident?” asks Farah, sounding suspicious. Amanda’s not really sure how to tell her that she shouldn’t worry, because the incident was probably _we’ve been ignoring our feelings for months and suddenly had to confront them because Amanda’s a dick_ and not _we’ve maybe been compromised_. As it turns out, she doesn’t get a chance to do either, because Gardener pulls over and their attention is distracted.

“Dammit,” swears Farah as Gardener walks into the empty park and then leaves the suitcase alone on a bench. “He’s leaving the package.” 

Amanda does some quick thinking. “Okay,” she says, “Dirk and Todd – you wait with the suitcase and Farah and I’ll keep following him, see where he goes." 

“That makes no sense,” objects Todd. “If we just want the McGuffin we might as well just let him get away. Or did you forget that we’re _not_ the actual police?”  

“Technically Farah’s a deputy,” Amanda reminds him, and Todd rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, in Bergsberg. This is Seattle.”

Amanda purses her lips. “We’re not even sure that _is_ the McGuffin.”

“Oh, it is,” interrupts Dirk, putting his head forward from the back of the van. “I can feel it.”

“Well, if it’s _not_ , it’s better if Farah and I follow him while you guys check.”

“She’s right,” agrees Farah, and Amanda’s heart flutters. “No time to argue, either, he’s getting ready to leave.”

Todd looks like he _wants_ to argue, but Dirk gets out of the car before he gets a shot.

“I know what you’re doing,” he mutters to Amanda as he gets out. “I’m _not_ a fan.”

“Later, loser!” she calls as he slams the door, feeling pleased with herself. She catches Farah’s eye as she pulls into the traffic behind Gardener’s car. 

“Just drive,” mumbles Farah, but she’s smiling as she says it. Amanda smiles back.

* * *

“We look suspicious,” says Todd as they loiter behind a tree. “Shouldn’t we just check the package and leave?” 

“ _No_ ,” exclaims Dirk, “We have to see who’s picking it up! The old lady was _very_ specific, Todd!”

Todd rolls his eyes. “I’m getting the suitcase. If you still wanna stick around and see who turns up then we can do that, but I don’t see how we can get the McGuffin back once it’s in their hands.”

Dirk shuffles on his feet for a moment. “Well – _alright_. But I don’t like it.”

Todd waves him off, heading over to suitcase. He glances around for a moment, but nobody else seems to be in the park so in one swift movement he picks it up and walks back to Dirk. His friend looks at him in amazement.

“Oh, _well done_ , Todd! That was very natural.”

Todd shrugs, handing it over. “I used to shoplift.”

“Why am I not surprised… _oh!_ ”

Todd can’t help his grin as Dirk jiggles the lock and reveals the McGuffin. “Excellent detecting, Todd!”

He pats it affectionately and then shuts it securely back in the suitcase. “I suppose that’s us off, then.”

“What happened to waiting around for the pick up?”

“Oh, yes, well I thought about it and, you know, is it _really_ necessary? _Really?_ I mean, you’re right, it’s not like we’re the _actual_ police.” 

Todd narrows his eyes, looking suspiciously at the plain t-shirt he’s wearing under his jacket. “You’re cold, aren’t you?”

Dirk pouts at him. “ _No_. Even if I were, hypothetically, cold, I would _hardly_ let it interfere with a _case_ , would I? Certainly not after you tried to convince me I needed a jumper, and – oh _bloody_ hell, _honestly_.”

Todd turns around to see a _decidedly_ shifty figure staring at them from over by the bench. Hopefully the darkness and their position in the shrubbery means he hasn’t spotted that they have the suitcase yet, but it’s not exactly a hard conclusion to come to. What else would they have been doing in the park at night?

It’s about this point in Todd’s thoughts that Dirk mumbles a _sorry, this is happening_ and pushes him against the tree, mouth finding his. Todd’s brain short-circuits, an endless loop of _what the fuck what the fuck_ gliding across his eyelids. Somehow this isn’t even the weirdest thing they’ve done for a case. With that in mind (and because he’s an idiot), Todd decides that it can’t hurt to make it seem more believable – not anyone other than him, at least – because he doesn’t really want to get beat up tonight and, well, kissing someone badly is possibly even more awkward than kissing your not-police colleague/best friend under the guise of a case. So Todd thinks _fuck it_ and kisses him back, failing spectacularly at ignoring the little squeak Dirk makes. He lets his hands settle on Dirk’s hips, looping his fingers through his belt hoops and tugging him closer, and he is definitely, _definitely_ too caught up in this, but Dirk’s fingers curl in his hair, tugging at the nape of his neck, and most of Todd’s rational thought flies clean out the window. _Motherfucker_ , he thinks, dazedly. Whoever taught Dirk how to kiss deserves a freaking _award_ –

They break apart, foreheads resting against each other as they gasp for air. Coherent thought tries valiantly to force its way through the fog in his head, helpfully trying to remind him that this isn’t something he and Dirk _do_. He squeezes his eyes shut, suddenly overwhelmed with the fact that he just _kissed Dirk_ , and Dirk just _kissed him back_ , and their excuse for it was, quite frankly, flimsy at best. He tries not to think about the fact that they’re practically standing chest-to-chest, that his hands are still ridiculously low on Dirk’s hips, and that three seconds ago he was making out with Dirk against a tree. _Christ_. There’s a good chance Todd has just _royally_ fucked this up. It certainly doesn’t help that Dirk still has him pinned and it’s _doing things_ to him. 

“I,” he says, and Dirk leaps back as though he’s been burned. They stare at each other, blinking in the darkness. Todd feels a little like he’s drowning.

“We should go,” he says eventually, when it doesn’t look like Dirk has anything to contribute. His cheeks are pink and his hair’s all messed up. It’s a good look on him.

“Right,” says Dirk, and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. Todd’s face is _on fire_. “I’ll call Amanda.”

* * *

They don’t talk again until after they’ve dropped the suitcase back at the office, and Amanda and Farah have stopped staring at them like they’ve each sprouted an extra head. Dirk’s hands are stuck in the pockets of his jacket as they walk back to the Ridgely, and he’s refusing to meet Todd’s eyes.

“So,” says Dirk, still looking determinedly at his own feet.

“So,” repeats Todd. He shivers a little in the cold air and folds his arms across his chest, tucking his hands under his armpits to shield them from the wind. He doesn’t exactly want to do this now ( _or ever_ ), but like always where Dirk’s concerned, his mouth seems to be running separate to his brain. “Hey, um – we’re all good, right? Like, uh. The whole, you know. Kissing, thing. That’s ok, right?” 

Dirk inhales a suspiciously shaky sounding breath. “Yes. Obviously. It was – ” there’s a pause where Todd thinks he’s very carefully choosing his next word, which is ironic given the one he settles on, “– fine. For the case. A good, good decision. To avoid, um, getting caught, and all that. So. Yes. It was for the case, so obviously that’s fine.” 

There’s another pause, and then he says, shortly, “Good.”

Todd kicks at a bit of gravel, wondering why his stomach feels like it’s sinking. It’s not like he expected anything more, but – well, he _likes_ Dirk, sometimes, when he’s not being annoying, and yeah, he never seriously _thought_ anything would happen, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t _want_ it to –

He shakes his head to clear his thoughts. The point is that Dirk deserves a lot better than Todd, in a best friend and in a romantic partner. And Dirk seems pretty set on having him for the first one, so it feels a little cruel to deny him the chance to do better for the second.

Then again, Todd’s always been a bit of a selfish asshole.

“Hey,” he says again, trying to sound nonchalant, “What you, uh, said back there, about us being… like, meant to know each other. Did you – did you mean that?”

Dirk glances over at him. “About the – um – universe leading me to you?”

Todd sucks in a breath. “Yeah. That’s the one.”

“Oh.” Dirk scratches at his ear and then shoves the hand back in his pocket. “Well yes, I suppose. I mean, the universe leads me everywhere, so…”

“Right,” says Todd, “But it had, uh, connotations, I guess...?”

There’s a very long, _very_ uncomfortable lull where Todd refuses to look at him if not out of the corner of his eye. If only he _was_ psychic. Or Dirk was. It’d probably save them both a lot of trouble. Maybe this is a sign – a sign that Todd should just leave it there, and forget this entire thing. They could ignore this whole evening and go back to normal.

“Dirk – ”

 “Todd – ”

They stop, both of them hovering while they wait for the other to continue. Todd opens his mouth to say something – he’d like to, he really, _really_ would, but the words seem to get stuck in his throat. Something about how _the universe led me to you, too_ , and _normalacy is overrated_ , and _I’m not going to fuck this up, I won’t_ , and all these other embarrassing thoughts he’d rather not be having at all. Vaguely he registers that Dirk’s eyes track the movement of his mouth.

“I – if you, um,” Todd’s not even sure what he’s _saying_ , right now, “if you wanted – I –  I wouldn’t be – _averse_ – to it, and, uh, well – ”

He breaks off again, and settles on staring at Dirk helplessly. He’s glad it’s dark, and Dirk probably can’t see the extent of his blush.

“Fuck,” mumbles Dirk finally, voice gravelly, and it’s easily the most attractive thing Todd’s ever heard. He doesn’t have very long to wonder what it means, either, because Dirk steps into his space and answers the unspoken question for him, one hand reaching out to tug gently on his ratty denim jacket. He’s very, _very_ close. Todd’s having trouble breathing.

“Is this okay?” Dirk asks suddenly in a whisper, like he’s doubting whatever momentary spout of confidence he just had. It eases Todd’s racing heart, the knowledge that neither he nor Dirk is going to be very good at this, and that they’ll probably end up figuring it out together, like they do with everything else.

He swallows, and nods. “It’s very. It’s very okay.”

And then Todd tilts his head up and – well. It’s good.

They’re good.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, kids!!! xo
> 
> also i feel like it's maybe important to say that todd seriously does love dirk a lot????? despite all of his denial-induced annoyance. there are some great fics out there that have todd being a good, emotionally mature dude where he is quite accepting of his crush on dirk, but, i mean. this was funnier. & his denial is definitely not born out of any internalised homophobia, so there's that. it's just todd bein todd. hope u liked it regardless!!


End file.
